


The Fourth Kind

by AudioCassete



Series: AudioCassete Writes Haikyuu!! [2]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: M/M, careful sinners i hear the fourth kind's a butt thing, oikawa tooru is a shameless harlot, poor poor iwa-chan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-25
Updated: 2016-04-25
Packaged: 2018-06-04 13:20:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6659707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AudioCassete/pseuds/AudioCassete
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hajime likes to pride himself on his restraint, on the fact that when it comes to sex, he isn’t completely wrapped around Oikawa’s finger, but when Oikawa starts in with this shit it means he is actively out for Hajime’s sex, despite the fact that they fucked just two days ago, Hajime pinning Oikawa against the bed and thrusting into him until Oikawa went wild, moaning and begging for him to never stop, to just keep pounding him like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Fourth Kind I

Iwaizumi Hajime has sinned. That’s the answer. He has to have done something horrifically wrong in his life to deserve this. This, of course, being Oikawa Tooru. 

“Iwa-chan, let’s walk home~!” Oikawa twitters around like an overgrown bird, and Hajime considers ritual suicide. It’s been like this the entire practice; Oikawa trying to catch Hajime’s attention and Hajime trying not to break under the strain and give the bastard what he wants. 

It’s been _torture_ ; every time Oikawa would serve, he’d lean forward, arching his back every so slightly before jumping, left arm tossing the ball high and revealing the skin beneath his jersey before the ball went flying over the net and Oikawa hit the ground, always landing in a slightly deeper crouch than usual. Every time Oikawa would set, he’s flick his wrists up and out as usual, then curl them slowly, gently into his palms and pin Hajime with a pointed stare. Every bump was an opportunity to turn out his arms and highlight the soft skin of his inner arms, every diving receive suddenly the only way to showcase his legs, and every sprint meant Oikawa standing beside him, hands on his hips and weight shifted to one leg, breathing hard and cheeks flushed. 

Hajime likes to pride himself on his restraint, on the fact that when it comes to sex, he isn’t completely wrapped around Oikawa’s finger, but when Oikawa starts in with this shit it means he is actively out for Hajime’s sex, despite the fact that they fucked just two days ago, Hajime pinning Oikawa against the bed and thrusting into him until Oikawa went wild, moaning and begging for him to never stop, to just keep pounding him like that.

And the worst part about Oikawa’s weird as hell volleyball mating dance is that it works. Hajime can barely keep his eyes off Oikawa long enough to do his damn job, and judging by the devilish gleam in his eyes, Oikawa knows it. It’s not gotten any better since practice ended; Oikawa in the team room is a nightmare of bared skin glistening with sweat and it shouldn’t be hot because they’re both disgusting from practice, but it is. Oikawa looks incredible after volleyball, high on the rush of endorphins and the ache of exertion, hair slightly damp with sweat and skin flushed. Even after they shower it’s still hard to keep calm, but Hajime is proud that he’s held up against Oikawa thus far. 

The walk home is relatively silent, Oikawa’s usual chatter strangely absent. Usually Hajime would enjoy the peace and quiet, but after today’s practice he’s only more suspicious. 

They get to Hajime’s house first; his parents are still at work and Oikawa invites himself inside without so much as a “by your leave.” 

“I’ll get the drinks!” Oikawa sing-songs, toeing off his shoes and setting off for the kitchen.

“Get some snacks too!” Hajime calls, because if Oikawa is going to make himself at home, he can make himself useful too. It would be awkward were it anyone else, but Hajime and his family have known Oikawa since Hajime was five and found a little boy to go bug hunting with in the woods. 

They end up in Hajime’s room drinking soda and ignoring their homework in favor of reruns of Oikawa’s favorite alien-hunter show. Oikawa sprawls out on his stomach on Hajime’s bed, chin propped on his palms and legs and legs kicking absently as he hums along with the theme song of the show. Hajime is relegated to the edge of the bed, but he’s more than used to Oikawa’s bed hogging by now. 

They make it halfway through the first episode before Oikawa rolls over and presses against Hajime’s side.

“Iwa-chaaaan, let’s do it.” He says, whining Hajime’s name like that will convince him.

“Really?” Hajime asks, and Oikawa nods eagerly.

“It’s been so long I’m starting to think you don’t want me anymore.” He pouts, and Hajima slaps lightly at his head, open palm brushing against the soft brown hair.

“Don’t be an idiot.” He says gruffly, and Oikawa grins up at him looking like the devil himself.

“Oh?” He says, and Hajime sighs.

“Of course I still want you Tooru.” Despite how long they’ve known each other, it still feels strange to say Tooru’s name sometimes, especially considering he really only uses it during sex. 

“So you noticed me today in practice, Hajime?” he asks, and Hajime falls back onto the bed, his head level with Tooru’s knees.

“If life was fair you’d have gotten hit in the head during those stupid antics of yours.” He huffs, and Tooru shifts until they’re laying side by side.

“But I didn’t because I’m awesome and I know you were looking.” He says with a pleased hum.

“Of course I was looking Tooru, you kept sticking your ass in my face.” Hajime groans, and Tooru rolls on top of him with a laugh, straddling his thighs and leaning down until he’s resting his weight on Hajime’s chest.

“But it’s such a nice ass.” Tooru says softly and rolls his hips, slow and teasing, down onto Hajime’s cock. 

“So full of yourself.” Hajime gasps, hands gripping Tooru’s hips as his cock starts to harden in interest. When Tooru grinds down again, he can feel the line of Tooru’s cock through his pants. 

“What I’d like is to be full of you.” Tooru replies without an ounce of shame, hips moving rhythmically now. He leans down until their lips are barely touching, and smiles wickedly. 

“What do you say, Hajime?” He breathes, and Hajime seals their lips together with a groan. Tooru laughs into the kiss, his lips parting for Hajime’s tongue and moaning softly as Hajime’s hands slip from his hips to his ass, squeezing him through his pants. 

When they part, Tooru is still grinning, and his smile never falters, not even when Hajime rolls them over and grinds their cocks together. His hands wrap around Hajime’s shoulders and his legs spread, and then he looks up at Hajime with those devilish brown eyes and that wicked grin.

“I knew you’d see things my way.” 


	2. The Fourth Kind II

Despite his frequent complaints, Hajime really does love Tooru when he gets like this. Sure, Tooru has his flaws, and he can absolutely be a massive dick, but in the end it’s part of his strangely irresistible charm, and has been since long before they became lovers. 

Still, Tooru’s charms aren’t exactly Hajime’s concern now that Tooru has gotten his way- not that Tooru getting his way inconveniences Hajime. He’s more interested in how Tooru looks right now, spread out on the bed beneath him, naked and writhing on his fingers. 

“Ha-Hajime, that’s enough!” Tooru groans as Hajime thrusts three fingers slowly in and out of him. 

“Is it?” Hajime asks with a smirk and Tooru tosses his head back, fingers tangling in his hair and pulling in desperation.

“Yes, yes, come on! I need it!” Tooru’s voice rises to a shout as he speaks, and Hajime curls his fingers forward, pressing against Tooru’s prostate. Tooru’s entire body tenses as he shouts wordlessly in pleasure. Looking at him now, Hajime would think that Tooru hadn’t blown him in the team room yesterday, that they hadn’t fucked the day before that, that they weren’t having almost constant, mind blowing sex. 

Still, Tooru is painfully hot like this, spread out and moaning for Hajime, so it’s no hardship on his part. He pulls his fingers out, lips quirking when Tooru moans brokenly and wipes them off on the covers, grimacing at the strange sensation of lube under his nails. Sex isn’t perfect, especially when they’re both so young, but it’s good- it’s great, really, even with the awkward parts.

“Come on, Hajime, come on!” Tooru moans, hooking his hands behind his knees and drawing his legs up. 

“I’m right here, Tooru, right here.” Hajime says easily, running his hands up the backs of Tooru’s thighs and squeezing his hands softly. He slides a condom on with relative ease, much better at it than the first time they had sex, and slicks his cock up, kneeling between Tooru’s spread legs as he does.

“Ready?” He asks softly, and Tooru nods eagerly.

“So ready, Hajime! Come on, get in me, I need it!” He moans, eyes hooded and dark and Hajime can never say no to him like this. Tooru is always this hungry, this needy for Hajime, and it would make Hajime jealous but for the fact that all Tooru ever wants is him. He flirts with others, yeah, but he only has eyes for Hajime. 

Hajime likes to think he’s a normal guy, but when he’s with Tooru like this he gets so possessive, like he has to match Tooru’s neediness, give him everything he wants and needs and please him until all he can think of is Hajime. He’s gotten pretty good at it too. 

“I’m ready, I’m so ready Hajime, get in me!” Tooru whines, and Hajime obeys with a grin, gripping his cock and pushing into Tooru with slow, short strokes. Each thrust pulls him deeper into Tooru until he’s completely inside his setter, thrust in to the hilt and surrounded by Tooru, warm and tight and perfect. He breathes heavily, waiting for Tooru to adjust before moving, and he doesn’t have to wait long.

There’s an easy rhythm to the way they come together, born of years of friendship and closeness and yes, quite a bit of practice. Tooru wraps his legs around Hajime’s thighs, resting his arms on Hajime’s shoulders and using that tiny bit of leverage to meet Hajime’s thrusts eagerly.

“So good, Hajime, you’re so big, so big!” He gasps each word, breathing Hajime’s name like it’s something sacred and Hajime is breathless in the face of it all. Tooru talks during sex; he talks about how long it’s been since Hajime last took him, how good it feels, how perfect and hot and tight and wonderful it is. He talks about how he misses Hajime’s cock when it’s not inside him, how he’s so hungry for it all the time now that he’ll do anything to get it. 

Hajime speaks little in comparison, only because he’s too caught up in Tooru’s litany. Tooru is needy in bed, taking and taking and taking, but Hajime doesn’t mind because Tooru has always given as good as he’s got. Even as he talks and begs, he squeezes around Hajime’s cock, rolling his hips and tossing his head and doing everything in his power to make Hajime feel as good as he does. 

“Fuck, Tooru!” Hajime gasps as Tooru writhes underneath him. There’s an openness to Tooru like this; he’s laid out and open for Hajime, no masks and no fronts, just Tooru. Hajime loves seeing him like this, fucked so hard he can only show what he really feels, all the space for his usual public persona taken up by overwhelming pleasure. He pulls back just enough to come to his knees and grabs Tooru’s thighs, sliding them up his back and over his shoulders, bending Tooru nearly in half before leaning forward and resting his palms on either side of Tooru’s face. 

The angle is different now and Tooru capitalizes shamelessly on his flexibility and athleticism, easily bending how Hajime wants him to, arms spread beside him and body clenching rhythmically around Hajime’s cock.

“Just like that, Hajime!” Tooru moans, breathless and throaty now, and it’s so hot, so hot like this. 

“Hajime! Hajime I need you!” Tooru cries out for him, and Hajime can see the way his body is starting to tense and shake, the way his cock twitches with each thrust. 

“Close?” He manages, and Tooru moans his assent with a desperate nod.

“Come on, Hajime! Come on! Fill me up, please fill me up! I need you so bad!” Tooru moans, embarrassingly loud for anyone but himself, and Hajime thrusts harder, deeper, aching to give Tooru what he wants. 

“Just like that! Hajime- ahhh!” Tooru wails as he comes, head tossed back and eyes clenched shut, cheeks flushed and mouth parted in ecstasy. Hajime thrusts into him as he comes, groaning as Tooru’s body grips him impossibly tight, and then he’s coming too, spilling deep inside Tooru. 

Tooru moans, back arching and thighs clenching as Hajime comes inside him, enjoying the sensation even through the condom. He goes limp, chest spattered with come and sweat dripping from his brows, and Hajime collapses on top of him with a groan. Tooru huffs a little sigh, his knees pressed to the space beside his ears by Hajime’s weight, and with a luxuriant moan, he straightens his legs, arms stretched above his head to grip his toes as he teased Hajime even now.

“Cut that out.” Hajime says with a groan and pushes up to his knees. 

“But it feels good!” Tooru whines, rocking his hips as he does. “I like the stretch.” He says almost petulantly, and Hajime leans over him, grabbing his feet and pulling them back to a more natural position.

“You’ll sprain something and then get benched, dumbass.” He says, and though Tooru shoots him a tiny frown, he doesn’t move his legs from where they’re bent on either side of Hajime’s hips. Hajime pulls out of him at last, gripping the condom and sliding out with a soft huff. Tooru moans softly as he does, muscles in his core shifting and tensing, and when Hajime finishes getting rid of the condom, he can see the way Tooru’s body waits for him to return, his ass clenching around empty air. Tooru’s eyes are closed and his lips are parted, huffing little breathes as he takes stock of his body. His fingers slide softly over his chest, down to brush once at his limp cock and then inspect his ass while Hajime wipes his chest down with his shirt.

“So empty...” He sighs, fingers rubbing at his rim, and Hajime leans forward to press an indulgent kiss to his lips.

“Get some rest, Tooru.” He says, flopping onto the bed beside Tooru. His boyfriend doesn’t stop until Hajime grabs his hands and pulls them away.

“Hajimeeee, it feels weird without you!” Tooru whines, but Hajime can hear the exhaustion in his voice. 

“Sleep.” Hajime says, and Tooru huffs. 

“Can we go again later? It really does feel weird.” He says coyly, and Hajime can only groan helplessly.

“You’re insatiable.” He says with a laugh, and Tooru smiles wickedly at him, rolling onto his side and curling up against Hajime, tossing his free hand over Hajime’s chest. He kisses softly at the skin of Hajime’s neck, pressing his soft cock into Hajime’s thigh as he does. 

“Just a little nap then,” He says lowly, and Hajime shivers at the tone of his voice. 

“A little nap, and then we can go again.” Hajime rolls his eyes, but takes Tooru’s hand in his, squeezing it softly.

“There’s just no pleasing you, huh?” He says, and Tooru chuckles.

“Oh I’m very pleased. So much so that I’d like a repeat performance. What’s the harm in that?” He asks innocently, and Hajime smiles at his lover.

“Insatiable.” He repeats, and Tooru nods with a smirk.

“Only for you.” 


End file.
